


His Pink Sweater

by locallilkiddo



Series: Stupidly Beautiful - Seasons [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Closeted Character, College/University, F/M, Hockey, Homophobic Language, M/M, One Shot, Stream of Consciousness, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 09:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13924125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locallilkiddo/pseuds/locallilkiddo
Summary: Your local hotshot rich hockey kid notices the odd abundance of a pink sweater with a flamingo on it.Or:An outsider's humorous perspective on a secret polyamorous relationship.





	His Pink Sweater

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is a one shot about a new character that's going to be introduced in the third volume of Stupidly Beautiful  
> it started as a vent piece about work and then I wondered what an outsider's perspective would be on Mira, Deimos and Kalmin's secret saucy relationship  
> enjoy

In the summer, I got fired for the first time. 

Half of me expected it, the other half didn’t. I thought for sure I’d be devastated, since this was my first real job that I applied for, but oddly enough, I was ok. It was probably because of my family’s company, and if I really needed cash, I could just work with them, again. But now looking back at it, I should have been a little sad about it. I always rely on my parents for everything- money, housing, jobs- and for once I did something on my own, and I failed. 

I worked in one of the biggest retail stores at the mall this summer. Lots of people flocked to our store because there was a wide selection of clothes and sizes, and it was unbearably cheap. That did mean every day was kind of a disaster, as swarms of people came in as if it was Boxing Day in the middle of June, but at least it kept me busy. Busy and stressed, really. Because the job was a high-intensity job, I needed to learn things quick. The sales, the staff, the rules, and the damn computers. They looked like they were built in the 70s- huge monitors, thick keyboards, no mouse, jaunty and confusing commands. First day on the job and they shoved me in front of those things. I was horrified. And I never got better at operating them. I was slow, and I made so many mistakes. So many times I left security tags on the clothes or I double-charged the customer or I didn’t give back the correct amount of change. Being ten cents under at the end of the night was fine, but being ten dollars under at the end of the night was a problem. I had a long conversation with my manager and the district manager, and they gave me one more chance to prove myself. If my till ever loses that much money again, I was screwed. 

The day I got fired was a hard one. For the entirety of my eight hour shift, I was swamped with customers. The line was never-ending, and everyone was in a bad mood. The customers were snappy and my co-workers were impatient. The other three cashiers at the till just wanted the line to end, but it never did, and it got on everyone’s nerves. I was stressed, but I wouldn’t say I was angry. I was beyond that. I wanted to die, really. You know, the usual retail worker mood. 

After being yelled at a lady for being so slow on till and having all my managers watch me with big, beady eyes, I had decided that tonight would be the night I walk in front of a bus. No one would miss me, it was my time. But then this guy came up to till and all my suicidal thoughts kind of just blew away. 

He was ridiculously hot. Dangerously hot. Too hot I felt like I was being blinded by the sun. 

He had that rebel, angsty boy vibe to him, with his wild raven hair, sharp jawline and devilish green eyes. However, he could only be so angsty and dark with that bubblegum pink sweater on. His looks screamed motorcycles, knives and gang fights, but his clothes shouted soft and sweet. His cute pink sweater had a damn flamingo on it, it was _adorable._ And he wore white ripped shorts and long socks with roses on it. He was terrifyingly _cute._ Totally my type. Beyond my type. Dream boyfriend. 

His green eyes settled on mine and then I realized a little bit too late I’ve been ogling him for too long. An embarrassed stutter of an apology tumbled out of me, as well as my bloodlust to kill myself, and started the transaction. As he pushed his clothes in front of me, I did notice his black nails, and then the thin choker around his neck. Then I looked at his clothes and tried to not to look too surprised at how more than half the things he wanted to buy were girl clothes. No judgement, but honestly I was surprised. 

He had bought a cute pink and white striped t-shirt dress, pastel blue overalls, a cropped pastel pink hoodie, black joggers and fishnets. 

I traded glances with the clothes and him. 

Honestly? What a look. 

I didn’t tell him that though, because I’m not a fucking idiot. But I really wanted to. I think at the time I wanted to say a lot of things. How hot he was, how cute he was, how amazing he’d look in fishnets- I don’t know, a lot was on my mind. With shaking hands I did the transaction and double-checked the clothes for any security tags. Half of me wanted to leave one on so he’d have to come up to the till again and I could talk to him, but all my managers were breathing down my neck so I decided to do it flawlessly. 

Which I did, and then proceeded to make mistake after mistake because I was thinking about that dude in that crop top and fishnets and _nothing else._ An hour later a mother of five was screaming at me for a sale I got wrong and I kind of snapped. In my defence, she screamed about how one shirt was supposed to be 70% off, but it was clearly a new arrival and not on sale, and she only found it on the clearance rack because a dumbass customer left it there. She used the usual excuse that I made the mistake and I should honour that and still give her the sale, but that’s against company policies and it’s not my mistake but hers. 

So I might have raised my voice a little bit too loud and cursed. 

One last finishing blow in the back with my manager and I was done. 

I didn’t feel that humiliated. Once again, I could rely on my parents for a better paying job, and I was financially stable. I only did it to gain some independence. I did learn a lot on the job. Some fashion tips, some organization skills, some patience. (Maybe a only a little bit more patience) And I saw cute guys like Pink Sweater Guy. One of the joys of working at a retail job was the hot people. Fitting rooms was the best. A shirtless dude walks up asking for a different size? Fuck yeah. You can check out all the butts. Another joy were the people, honestly. Maybe not the managers, but some staff were nice to me. They’re all so…open. 

I’ve grown up surrounded by male athletes, and they can be rough to be around. Homophobic, sexist, horny, dirty. Locker room banter is the worst. It makes me feel like shit. I did get over that when I was like ten, compartmentalized it all and pretended to be one of the hockey jocks, but working with so many confident, strong women made me remember that not everyone was so…disgusting. They’d compliment my looks, my skin, my tattoos. One of the stock girls in particular genuinely wanted to know about the stories behind every tattoo, and I was kind of surprised because usually the boys just called it “gay” and slapped my ass. She sat down and listened to every story. The girls bought donuts and coffee for the store constantly, and supported each other whenever times got rough. A man came in day after day asking for one of the cashiers, and one day they had enough and banned him from the store. They were cool. They even had my back once, when this older woman kept berating me for my number, and the main fitting rooms girl told her to back off. Gentle, sweet, but confident and respectable. 

I missed that the moment I got back onto the ice with some high school teammates. They threw out misogynistic and homophobic language ten seconds into the game that my old coworkers would scream to them about. But I had to let it roll it off me, lock down my emotions again, and remind myself this was one last game. These broke assholes won no scholarships and will be going into shitty middle-class jobs after they’re done school. They’re scum, and they’re going to keep on living like scum. I’ve got university, and then the big leagues. Then real independence. I just have to bite my tongue. 

August went quick, which was good because the moment September hit, I cut ties with all my high school classmates. They were dead to me, but then again, they were dead to me the second they called me a fag. Too bad this closeted fag is kicking their asses now. 

Moving in day was a hard one. 

Not because I was going to miss my parents, but adjusting to a new team was. Honestly, there was a different vibe to them. There was still the butt-slapping, and the usual hazing rituals that had the seniors dumping a huge bucket of ice water on us, but the mood was different. It’s hard to explain. Usually, there’s always an underlying dick-measuring contest in teams. Who’s more macho. Who’s the Man. But this team felt like a family. There was hugging, there was compliments, there was honest-to-God affection between the boys. I felt welcomed, not terrified. 

There was even a moment when one of the freshman called another a “fucking faggot” and this tall, tall, beautiful man came in and slapped him on the side of the head. 

“This team doesn’t tolerate that language,” he said harshly. 

I kind of stood there in shock for at least a minute. One of the well-known goalies came in and hooted saying, “the Dorm Mama speaks!” and three other people joined in chanting “Dorm Mama.” 

I learned afterwards from a second year that was Kalmin. Top D-man, and openly bisexual. Also insanely hot. And single. And hot. 

The first time I met him was a few hours after that and I had gotten lost on campus. I wanted to buy some supplies at the bookstore, and got tragically lost. Kalmin strolled up saying he recognized me and offered to show me around. I don’t recall saying a lot, but Kalmin chatted happily anyway. He was like a beam of sunshine against so much dreary grey on the team. The team was great, but it also had it flaws as well. There was no escaping the raunchy and gross details of boys eating out pussy in locker rooms, as well as neither the freshmen really growing out of their problematic habits of calling normal things people do “gay” or “too girly.” Some older teammates reached out to the freshmen _because_ they were toxic, and could finally “be themselves”. More trash to talk trash about, I guess. However, Kalmin always caught them and chided them about their gross behaviours. He lived up to the Dorm Mama name, and didn’t let any harsh criticism of him get to him. 

He was hot, into boys, and a great role model. It was hard _not_ to think of him in a romantic and sexual sense. He made me feel like I was fifteen again and I had lusted for the photographer at my aunt’s wedding. 

But that all changed really quickly. Maybe too quickly. Too soon. I wanted to at least fantasize about him _once_ but in only two days all my hopes and dreams were shattered. 

I was still getting used to the campus, and decided to wander about for a bit. I found myself in the Visual Arts building on the second floor in one of their galleries. And smack-dab in the middle of the exhibit was Kalmin, _and_ the hot boy I checked out the day I got fired. One check of the title, “A Summer Romance,” and I knew I stood no chance. It was impossible to think that these two boys plastered across this six-foot wall _weren’t_ in love. I’ve never seen such beautiful smiles before. 

The photograph was incredible. It captured such a fleeting yet perfect moment when these two boys have dropped all their defences and were just feeling each other, being free of everything that chained them down. For Kalmin, it has to be the homophobia. For the other boy, it was to be the toxic masculinity. Maybe I’m just making assumptions, I’ve only seen the man once, but when I did, he was buying a dress and fishnets. And from the picture, he’s wearing a salmon pink t-shirt and his nails are painted _and_ he’s wearing those cute 90’s chokers. He’s probably got a problem with dressing more girly. I don’t know, I’m not him. I can’t honestly relate. Never found pink to be a great colour. Kind of… _gay_ I guess. And the last thing I need right now is people thinking I am. 

I mean, I am. But I’m not _that_ kind of gay who dresses up like women. God, I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. Basically even though I am kinda gay, I stand no chance in getting anything with Kalmin and his mystery boyfriend. 

Until I found out that Kalmin’s mystery boyfriend had a mystery girlfriend. Or really, Kalmin was incredibly single. 

Turns out I wasn’t the only one that saw _A Summer Romance._ Actually, a lot of people have, including some of the freshmen who then interrogated the upperclassmen one dinner. Kalmin was gone, and according to Sebastian was on a _“platonic date with Deimos and Mira,”_ which then spiralled out of control in learning from the goalie and Kalmin’s close friends that Kalmin had gotten close with some of the art students, which is unheard of in a house full of jocks, and even more unheard of is them getting chummy with a _fine arts_ student. 

Turns out that the photographer for _A Summer Romance_ was Mira, Deimos’ girlfriend. Deimos was the pretty boy who probably got me fired because I kept thinking about him on the job. Deimos and Mira were Kalmin’s best friends, and new best friends because it seems that title used to be owned by Sebastian who was still a little heart-broken about it. 

The freshmen were convinced, however, that Kalmin was dating Deimos. This _“Mira”_ was a cover-up, and Bailey and Daren, the tallest fourth-years of the team, decided to prove them wrong. Reluctantly I tagged along, and found the couple in the lounge areas of the arts building. Seven tall-ass boys crowded behind a corner and watched them. 

Mira was shorter than I imagined. She was small sitting beside Deimos, her shoes off and feet hiked up onto the couch, scribbling something in her sketchbook while her boyfriend typed away at his laptop. For a second there, I thought she was a boy, honestly. She had her beanie covering up all her hair, and she wore baggy boy clothes from coincidentally the store I worked at. She wore no makeup and didn’t sit like a girl. The only indication was just the plain intimacy the two of them shared. No gay couple would be this chummy in public. 

Deimos leaned into her touch, and occasionally he’d kiss her forehead or her neck when people “weren’t looking.” If that wasn’t a sign that they weren’t a couple, I didn’t know what was. Turns out this pretty boy wasn’t gay after all. He was straight as a ruler. And maybe not that girly after all. He wore leather jackets and ripped black skinny jeans. The only flash of colour was the pink sweater he wore underneath the jacket. It was from a well-known brand, expensive as hell. I’ve seen a few guys wear it here and there, nothing out of the ordinary. 

One time, I saw his girlfriend wear it. 

I swear I’m not stalking them, but one time when I was at the little cafe place in the science building, I bumped into her. She was swearing paint-splattered joggers and this enormous pink hoodie. One look at the flamingo on her chest and I knew it was the exact sweater Deimos owned. God, I envied their relationship. Straight couples have it so fucking _easy._ They can show affection to the person they love in public. They can wear each other’s clothes without anyone batting an eye. God, _they have rights as individuals._

Straight couples are just infuriating. 

This straight couple was infuriating. It was annoying seeing them together all the time. They were inseparable. I _always_ saw them together, Mira wearing Deimos’ pink hoodie or holding his hand or kissing him or laughing with him or just being damn happy with him. They visited the dorm frequently. Always came to pick up Kalmin, who seemed to be more of a ghost of the dormitory than an actual tenant. Seb said that Deimos and Kalmin “are tight.” Kalmin always goes over to Deimos’ place to sleep over. Apparently he’s a better roommate than his actual roommate. Also, there’s probably a bit more space and less disgusting hockey players to clean up after. Riley, the captain, complained constantly whenever Kalmin was gone because he cleaned up after the place. Personally, I think Riley’s not looking hard enough because there is Henry, my roommate, that definitely does the dishes and takes out the trash when no one’s looking. Filthy bastards, clean up after yourself. These assholes can win championships but can’t even flush a toilet and wash their damn hands. 

Anyway, Deimos and Mira. Mira and Deimos. The most obnoxious straight couple he’s ever seen. They’re sick to watch. And what’s even more sick to watch is Kalmin be with them. Poor buddy’s stuck as their Third Wheel. Yeah he smiles like the damn sun when they’re around, but I can’t imagine always being that cheerful when you’re stuck in limbo being single while your best friends are dating and definitely prioritizing their time for themselves rather than for the group. I mean, yeah there are times I see Kalmin and Mira together or Deimos and Kalmin together, but all three of them together is more of a thing than the latter. 

Kalmin has to envy them a little bit. He can’t be aromantic or asexual with a body and smile like _that._ He definitely could easily find a girl or guy to date. Maybe the biggest reason I’m so infuriated seeing the three of them together is that Kalmin could spend less time with the couple and find someone to date himself. Being around such an intimate and obnoxious pair _has_ to drain you and tug at your heartstrings. 

But then again, it’s not my problem. I shouldn’t be so invested with Kalmin’s love life. He’s just an upperclassmen that occasionally smiles at me when we pass each other in the hallways. 

But _fuck,_ I’m so invested. After one practice, there was no turning back with my morbid curiosity. 

And no, it wasn’t because I saw his dick in the showers- it was because I saw his back. 

At that point, I convinced myself that Kalmin was completely single and ready to mingle but didn’t mingle with single people, but this obnoxious straight couple from the arts department. But one look at his back as he padded through the change rooms in just a towel- dripping wet, very jacked, extremely sexy- I, and the whole team, realized he wasn’t _completely_ single. 

“ _Shit, Kalmin’s got a fuck buddy!”_ Greg shouted loudly. 

Kalmin jumped as his teammate slapped him hard on the back. His back that was covered in scratch and kiss marks. The whole team went wild, hooting and hollering like dogs, Kalmin’s face turning a dark shade of scarlet as he quickly slipped on a shirt. Riley tried to diffuse the situation saying that “everyone does it” and telling Greg especially to knock it off. 

Even though I only got a glimpse of his back, anyone could tell what kind of sexual partner Kalmin was. The violent kinky type. The bite marks were obsessive, and the scratch marks were deep. They littered every part of his back, yet kept his front clean and fresh as if it was supposed to be just a sign to strangers that he was taken. 

One look at his back and I felt sick to my stomach. I don’t know if I was heart-broken or turned on. At least I knew Kalmin was getting it. (And he wasn’t asexual because damn, I’d tap that.) And apparently, everyone kind of got the gist that Kalmin was seeing someone. He can’t _always_ be going to Deimos’ place. _And_ this isn’t the first time the team has seen him covered in love marks. According to Seb, first day back at the dorms he strolled in looking like he got assaulted by an octopus. One dinner boys were making bets on if Kalmin’s partner was a girl or guy. Personally I hoped he had a larger preference for guys because, once again, I’m kinda gay, but then again, I’ll never kiss a man in my life again because if I want a future career I gotta like the normal shit. 

After that locker room fiasco, I found myself observing Kalmin more than I wanted. Always checked if he came in with a fresh hickey or bite mark. And surprisingly, yeah, he’s got a heathy sexual diet. The crazy scratch marks and millions of kiss marks are a rare occasion, but there might be a small hickey on his collarbone or on his neck, so he’s definitely kissing someone. It’s just a question of who’s he kissing. Who’s this mystery partner? Could I stand a chance? (Just kidding, I’m a closeted asshole, Kalmin would never kiss me)

He’s got lots of friends, so anyone could be his partner, but he truly does spend the most time with Deimos and Mira. They’re walking through campus together, Mira wrapping her arms around both of the boys’ arms like a kid; they’re studying together in the library, Deimos falling asleep on Kalmin’s shoulder; they’re eating dinner together, making each other laugh and finishing each other’s meals; they’re napping together in the visual arts building, all three of them in one love seat, snuggled up together like kittens. It was grossly romantic, and equally as tragic for Kalmin to keep on going with this Third Wheel thing. What was so appealing about Mira and Deimos? Yeah, Deimos was fucking _hot,_ but taken by this little girl who looks like a twelve year old boy. They’ve got nothing in common, it makes no sense. 

Honestly, I had this argument in my head for at least a solid month before I started to notice something odd about the three of them. It started when Greg once again teased Kalmin for having hickeys and scratch marks on his back again. After practice, lo and behold, Deimos was waiting for Kalmin outside the gym. But what struck me was the deep red kiss marks on Deimos’ neck as well.

I could just be making _insane_ assumptions.

But then I started noticing how much Kalmin and Deimos trade off clothes. It started with Deimos’ pink sweater. The two of them wore that thing as if it was their team jersey. They wore it religiously; it probably reeks. Then I noticed Kalmin’s hockey hoodie was more often than not with Deimos. And then Kalmin’s white Nike pants were on Deimos’ legs and on Kalmin’s legs were Deimos’ dark red joggers. Kalmin even wore Deimos’ signature leather jacket to practice one time. And Deimos wore his Adidas sweater. They’ve even swapped complete outfits before. 

I’ve had close friends before, but I’ve never swapped clothes to the amount that they do. 

And I assumed that Kalmin wore Deimos’ clothes whenever he stayed over. The theory checked out after asking Seb a few times where Kalmin went and then checking his clothes at practice the next day. 

And then one night the big team freakout happened again. Kalmin came to practice littered with love marks. Greg said his words, Riley kicked his ass, Kalmin blushed on cue and slipped on his clothes. Thing is, the clothes he slipped on were Deimos’. And the day before, I acutely remembered Deimos wearing _that damn pink sweater._ I could feel the flamingo on it mocking and laughing at me for thinking that _Deimos was sleeping with Kalmin._

But it was the only option, right?

I mean, Deimos wears this one pink sweater one day, Kalmin “sleeps over” and comes to school the next wearing that exact pink sweater and covered in love bites. I’m not crazy. 

I’m not. 

And I knew I was fucking right when from the grace of a god, Deimos was waiting for Kalmin outside the gym with two cups of coffee with his neck _covered_ in hickeys. Kalmin even laughed and pulled him into a hug, saying around the words of, “God, I love you so much,” before dragging him away to probably kiss the shit out of. 

Deimos was cheating on Mira with Kalmin. 

_Kalmin’s a home-wrecker._

I don’t know what I should be more shocked about. Deimos doesn’t actually love Mira, or Kalmin’s actually a snake. Both seem like genuinely great guys, but who would have known they were actually terrible, terrible people. The more I watched them, the more sorry I felt for Mira. In the beginning she seemed a little annoying with her overt flirting and PDA with her boyfriend, but now she’s really the victim of this huge affair. She doesn’t know any of this is happening. And I mean, who can blame her. Her straight boyfriend is secretly gay; it seems like something ripped out of a gay romance novel. I should have known the moment I saw _A Summer Romance._ They looked in love because they _were_ in love. The photograph worked so well because there was actual chemistry behind the scenes. 

I feel like I should probably say something to her about it, but that felt so rude and intruding and out of character. If a random stranger told me my partner was cheating on me for my best friend I’d probably deck them. Who the fuck pries into another’s love life and drops a bomb like that? Not me. Mira will eventually figure it out. I mean, they’re not being subtle with all the love marks. If a fool like me can figure out the secret affair between the Golden Boy of the hockey team and The Hot Guy that Got Me Fired by just noticing the odd abundance of a pink sweater with a flamingo on it, she can too. 

She can, right?

**Author's Note:**

> I made a new trash child and I hope you guys will like him in volume 3  
> (still slaving away at that ha H A im fine guys)  
> maybe i'll make more one-shots? who knows subscribe to find out  
> thanks for all the love <3 hope to see you guys soon <3 <3


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